Tyler was a big guy, 5'11 broad chest, narrow waist.. his face though slightly rounded with the youth of a growing boy was handsome with a strong jaw and narrow blue eyes. His sandy brown hair was tossed to the side, making the boy a dream for a runway instead of a three time state champion quarterback. He decided to help his mother with dinner, since she wasn't feeling well. Mrs Hernandez, a 5'4" woman went to his shoulder, her sand colored hair was piled on top of her head, strands fell freely from the pile, framing her round face and accenting ocean colored eyes.
"Oh honey, you don't need to do that…" she murmured gently.
Tyler shrugged, "you're not feeling well today, mom. Let me help you." Mrs. Hernandez offered her son a warm smile as she left him to his devices. When he dropped the pan with the seasoned roast and vegetables, Mrs. Hernandez cried out, alerting her husband, a 5'11" man who was unusually fit for his late age. "The pain of hard labor." The aging man has explained to his son during an impromptu home practice.
Mr Hernandez gathered his crumpled son into his arms and guided him to his room.
"It's getting worse…" the wife whispered as she dabbed at her sons sweating forehead. The husband sighed heavily. "They will come for him…" She whispered with tears in her eyes.
"Elijah, mi esposo ... mantén a mi hijo a salvo (Elijah, my husband… keep my son safe…)"
His hand fell heavy on her shoulder.
"con mi vida, Maria. (With my life)"
***
"Werewolves?" Myriah asked with raised eyebrows, "you kidding me?" Angalo chuckled behind a closed palm while Jasmine ground her teeth together. She still wasn't over Myriahs blatant cruelty towards her.. but then… the magic that took her years and years of rigorous training to master, Myriah has mastered in a matter of hours…
"Myriah. After all you've seen…" Axel sighed from beside the lavender eyed girl, "They mostly roamed in the Americas." Angalo murmured thoughtfully. "The America's? As In here, the americas?" The lavender eyed girl asked, astonished. The Americas would mean… Her eyes widened in realization, "Bullshit." Myriah blurted. With wide eyes and red cheeks, "well-"
"They were practically wiped out…" Myriah shook her head, "it's a genocide that was kept subdued until the war." Axel whispered. "False pretenses of peace and offering for new beginnings…"
"You're telling me…"
"Columbus was part of the order." Angalo supplied, "though the mistake in geography was very true, his pretenses were not."
The words though gentle, were cold and ominous.
Native Americans… a history that fascinates Myriah to this day. A tribal people who were unnaturally close to the energies of the earth and universe around them…
Down to a measly few hundred if the blood count doctrine were revoked… a culture that was strong and beautiful only kept alive by texts and photos.
To Myriah, it's the tragedy that has never been accounted for or righted by any true means…
The thought was saddening to Myriah. 'Natives live a lot like us… praying to remain alive another day.'
Myriah sighed and laid her head on Axels shoulder, "it looks like this world is filled with bloody lies and tainted truths…" she mumbled as Axel stroked her hair.
***
"Hurry. We haven't much time."
Blue eyes bore silent tears as she held the sleeping bundle close to herself.
"You are loved… Ciṟiya ōnāy"
*
Tyler shot up with a cry. Drenched in sweat, chest heaving, wide blue eyes met knowing gold.
'Anta nēram vantuviṭṭatu (the time has come)'
Tyler stumbled out of his bed as a shadow seamed to crawl from his mirror, 'Oṉṟukku iraṇṭu pātikaḷ (two halves to one.)'
"No…" Tyler whispered, but the shadow advanced on him. Slowly. Growing in size and solidity with every step.
'Itayattaiyum valimaiyaiyum tāṅkukiṟatu (bearing heart and strength).' Tyler shook his head frantically, "this is a dream…"
The shadow was on him now, Tyler shivered when he felt a warm breath puff in his face.
He squeezed his eyes shut as the shadow pressed to his forehead, 'Ceyya vēṇṭiyataic ceyya (to do that which must be done).'
Tyler could only gasp as he was taken to a memory… 'or is this a dream?'
~ Blue eyes stared into his as soft lips caressed his forehead. The soft and warm embrace changed to strong arms, and a hard chest.
"Naṉṟāka kaṉavu kāṇuṅkaḷ, ciṟiya ōnāy (dream well little wolf)." A baritone voice sounded from the strong chest, "Nīṅkaḷ eḻuntirukkum pōtu…. (For when you wake)" ~
The dream started to fade away as pain started to set in. Tyler blindly reached for the image, wanting to learn more, "what will happen when I wake?!" He cried as he chased the fading image, "come back!" Tyler stumbled and fell as a crack sounded. The boy looked to his leg to see it twisted and mangled,
"What the-"
The black shadow was standing before him now.
It started into his wide blue eyes, about to speak when the buzz of Tyler's alarm snapped the shadow away.
Tyler shot up with a grunt. Looking at his mirror across from him, he noticed that he was drenched in sweat. He looked to his right and saw a bottle of medicine and a glass of water. "Thanks mom." Tyler whispered as he opened the medicine and shook two of the oval shaped white pills from it.
'We both know that it doesn't help… but I know that you hope every time.' He thought as he swallowed the pills with the glass of water. Tyler climbed out of bed and he looked at his reflection.
'Surely I'm going mad..' the boy pulled some jeans, under wear, a muscle shirt and a t-shirt from his dresser. 'That dream was too real to be a dream…' he observed as he pulled socks from another drawer, 'but…' he recalled the love he felt from the warm embrace. 'It felt like mom… was I remembering when she held me as a baby?' Tyler turned to head to the bathroom and a stabbing pain sliced through his head.
The room slanted and Tyler fell to his knees with a groan. 'It burns…' he thought as he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Tyler, hon-" Maria Hernandez opened her sons door to see him in a fetal position, shaking. "Tyler!" She cried as she rushed to the groaning boy, "what's wrong, baby? Where does it hurt."
Tyler was in too much pain to speak. He wanted to assure his mother that he was fine. Reaching to touch her shoulder, his hand lashed out, tossing his mother across the room.
Tyler couldn't rationalize what was going on, his father was standing between him and his mother, frightened. The feeling stabbed his chest, making the boy curl into himself once more.
Mr. Hernandez tried to reach his son, but the boy swiped at his open hands.
"Don't come near me!" The boy cried as he tried to avoid his father, seeing the blood pour from his mothers body was too much for him.
"I don't want to hurt you…" Tyler whimpered as his father managed to pull the shaking boy into his arms. "I don't…" Mr Hernandez watched his son fall unconscious. His wife slowly joined his side, wiping the blood away from her mouth.
"I'm fine…" she whispered, "I just want him to be safe…"